


Confessions Of A Domino's Employee

by kujojongup



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, Awkward Flirting, Boys Being Boys, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kujojongup/pseuds/kujojongup
Summary: For eight weeks, Himchan has been tormented by a regular customer who always orders an abomination of pizza.





	1. I Stalked Your Instagram

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just some word vomit for fun based on some shenanigans
> 
> i would also like to say that the two food atrocities mentioned in the first paragraph are things that i've seen in my own home and i don't mean to slander jongup but........it makes me think of him
> 
> ANYWAYS, ENJOY?!

The first time it happened, Himchan simply scoffed.

Silly things happened all the time in life, after all. Like that one time he caught Jongup and Junhong dipping pickles in Nesquik, somehow sober and well aware of their choices. Or that one time Yongguk attempted to make beer-batter fish, but mistook Himchan’s jar of icing sugar as the jar of flour. So, in the big picture, the things he sees as a chef at Domino’s shouldn’t be too weird. He has only fainted once so far, when someone actually replaced the pizza sauce with Alfredo pasta sauce on their custom order.

But things are getting out of hand.

“Himchan!” Daehyun yells, not realizing Himchan was standing next to him. “You’ve got an order from Heavy Ranch!”

“I know,” Himchan shudders, making Daehyun jump out of skin due to their apparent close proximity. “I saw it. Kill me now.”

“Oh, come on!” Daehyun laughs, giving Himchan a much-not-appreciated slap on the back, like a true brother. “It’s not the weirdest thing we’ve gotten.”

Affectionately, Himchan grabs Daehyun’s arm and twists it behind his back, smirking when he cries uncle. “This is the eighth week in a row, you little shit. I’m getting annoyed!”

Eight weeks.

Ever since university students began their break, someone had begun ordering a specific pizza—nothing too odd, but enough to make Himchan’s face scrunch in disgust. After all, to put anything other than pizza sauce as, well, pizza sauce, is a disgrace to humankind.

“Heavy ranch sauce, extra cheese, green peppers, black olives, green olives…” Himchan grumbles, getting everything together with a few pinches of reluctance sprinkled over. “…Hey, Daehyun?”

Suddenly, Daehyun seemingly teleports to Himchan’s side, chin on his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Can you get Eunae to make this delivery?” Himchan says, scrunching his nose as he works the ranch sauce—an abomination—onto the dough. “Tell her to get the person’s name, and any social media, if possible.”

“You know,” Daehyun sighs, shaking his head. “I can literally just tell you who ordered it, considering it was an online order.”

“That’s very true, however,” Himchan pops his lips, smiling, “I’ve been watching a lot of rom-coms lately.”

“Hold on-!” Daehyun exclaims, waving his hands dramatically in faux-confusion. “You mean to tell me that you want to date this customer you loathe? You don’t even know if they’re attractive! Or what gender they are! Or if they’ll even be attracted to you!”

“Perks of swinging both ways, Daehyun.” Himchan winks. “And you’ll be living eternally in your unrequited love, without ever experiencing the delightful feeling of a woman’s-”

“-expression when she holds her newborn child!” Daehyun cuts, looking horrified, spitting his words out quickly while making a beeline for the exit. “Eunae~!”

Daehyun has a point, though.

There’s no telling what this customer might look like, how they act, or what they do with their life in their spare time.

Life for Himchan, though, is a drawl. Attending college later in his twenties does him no favors and only serves to make him regret the lost years of his life spent on his back, refusing to sit up. He’s lucky to even blend in with the early-twenties crowd that his friend circle mostly consists of.

If he’s going to blend in with them and regain his lost years, he ought to have the same amount of fun. That fun may as well consist of rose-tinted lenses and a what-if every now and then, taking the chance to find puppy love through chance encounters written in fate’s script.

It feels good to feel young.

 

* * *

 

Yoo Youngjae.

His hair is blaring tangerine, something like a bad bleaching of dark hair repurposed into something beautiful. The chub of his face doesn’t take from his jawline, nor from the mischievous glint in his eyes—one of which has a squint to it—that screams ‘brat’. The captions on his Instagram are some of the most teeth-gritting words Himchan has ever read, and they make him want to pull someone’s hair.

Thank God for Eunae being a charming-enough delivery girl to get this guy’s Instragram.

Yoo Youngjae is extremely cute, and the pictures of him at Toronto Pride—sticking out his tongue with a pink-purple-blue flag in his hands, hair spiked and blonde—make Himchan’s heart pitter-patter a bit faster.

“That was back in 2012,” Daehyun remarks, pointing at the date. For a moment, Himchan’s terrified the plain white heart is going to turn red. “I checked his tagged photos, too. I don’t think he’s gone to a pride event in the last four years. It’s unlikely that he’s the in-your-face kind of gay. I mean, he doesn't have that god awful hair anymore, either.”

“That’s a good thing,” Himchan nods, discreetly shifting his phone away from Daehyun’s clumsy fingers. “He’s twenty-two—hold on let me scroll up to find his birthday picture-”

“Wait, wait, wait—stop!” Daehyun yells frantically, stealing the phone.

Angrily, Himchan rips it out of his hands. Before he can yell, though, the image Daehyun clicked on catches his eye. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” he groans, throwing his head back.

There’s nothing overly impressive about his hands themselves, though the video Daehyun caught shows them in clear definition.

What’s impressive is how he uses them.

Himchan thinks he might fall in love with the way Youngjae’s fingers move over his bass, fluid and instinctive, moving in a complicated mess and wait, that’s a song that he’s memorized, somehow. The sheer talent poured into a minute-long video with a caption calling it sloppy is enough to make Himchan think of other ways those beautiful fingers could be put to use.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re going to get a hard-on, I’d rather you get it in the bedroom,” Daehyun remarks, and Himchan exhales in frustration through his nose. “You know, where I can comfortably help you out.”

“Not into otters anymore, sorry,” Himchan mutters, shutting his phone off and running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t tell me my fuck-buddy is leaving me for some guy that orders ranch-sauce pizza,” Daehyun pouts, joking but there’s a slight tinge of disappointment in his voice.

Himchan shrugs, looking up at his friend’s wide eyes. “If it means you’ll finally let me introduce you to Yongguk so you can get over Jongup, definitely.”

“Fuck, fine,” Daehyun whines, ruffling his own hair. “I’m here if you need me, though.” He win exaggeratedly, hopping off the kitchen counter and leaving to go god-knows-where.

Huffing, Himchan turns his phone back on and continues to scroll, getting lost in videos of bass riffs from bands he doesn’t know and horrible selfies accompanied by model-like candid photos. It’s a bit funny, how this guy can’t seem to take a selfie to save his life but any other photo of him looks like an editorial.

There’s some photos of him and what seems to be his garage band, including a boy that he recognizes as one of Yongguk’s producer friends. He digs in his head to find his voice, remembering it to be full of snarls and growls. So Youngjae’s in a bit of a rock band, it seems.

That’s hot.

He looks exceptionally good in loose band tees and black skinny jeans. Leather jackets, surely fake, give the slightest edge to him that steals breath. There’s recent pictures of him mildly drunk at an outdoor party, rocking tacky leopard print like it’s fashion-forward. There’s pictures of him with his band, playing in someone’s garage, with a caption gushing about how fun it is to just let loose, even if no one’s listening to them.

That’s cute.

Back at the top of the screen, his most recent picture seems to be in his own living room, with a half empty bottle of whiskey and his bare feet up on the coffee table.

Youngjae looks impossibly attractive, as seems to be the case in every previous photo. His purple bass seems to fit perfectly against his body. Grey, though a bland color for a shirt, looks like silver on his skin, even with the shoulders cut and ripped off the sleeves.

The caption is what steals Himchan’s attention, in the end. At the bottom, it says the post was made only an hour ago, about when Himchan and Daehyun’s shifts had ended.

 

_anyone else got that 1 person who always makes ur pizza when u order dominos online? lmao @ himchan idk who u r but ilysm i hope u have a good night bby <3_

 

“Daehyun, get your ass back in here!” Himchan practically screams, holding his phone against his chest. “He acknowledged my existence!”

Seconds later, Daehyun walks back in the apartment kitchen, sighing with his hands inside his pockets. “Himchan there’s no way he could-” he starts, but is cut off by Himchan’s phone screen in his face. “Oh my God, wait, what?!”

“I feel special,” Himchan grins. “Like, shit, yeah this guy has terrible taste in pizza but now I’m realizing that he’s liking what I’m making. I’m giving this guy some true happiness in the form of some damn good pizza. At least, it’s good to him. This little bit of his happiness is thanks to me? I'm proud of myself.”

“Would it be weird to just show up at his door?” Daehyun quirks an eyebrow curiously. “Because you should totally do that. We have his address in our records.”

Himchan stares at Daehyun, unimpressed. “I totally should not do that.”

“Honestly, I think he’d be charmed,” Daehyun shrugs, holding his arms out. “Just sayin’.”

“Just let me deliver the pizza myself next week,” Himchan suggests. Daehyun purses his lips, and nods, acknowledging the obvious. “So I can meet him properly under, you know, normal circumstances.”

“Good idea, yeah,” Daehyun admits. “You’ll do that then. Not my fault if you get in trouble with Geunsoo for technically leaving your shift, though.”

Himchan realizes, he wouldn't even care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is admittedly, purely inspired by my own life. 
> 
> @ kevin thanks for making my stupid pizza even though you probably think it's nasty. ily
> 
> also i wanted to give youngjae kind of a character and i read a oneshot recently where he's a bassist and then i thought of my brother's instagram videos and was like fuck, let's make him a bassist.
> 
> anyways, comments and kudos are always welcome!!


	2. I Hoped You Would

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when the twink turns out to be not-twink rip himchan
> 
> i ain't got much to say for this except....i live with a bassist. it's kinda like this
> 
> anyways, enjoy!

“Hey Jae, you stayin’ to jam when Seungcheol and Yeeun get here?” Yoongi asks, slapping the bassist’s shoulder affectionately, making him nearly drop his bass as he works to settle it in its case.

Behind him, Hani yells for too loudly for her small garage and makes him flinch again. “Lil’ Jae’s got his date nights on Fridays now, remember?” Her expression is slightly mocking when she puts an arm up on Yoongi’s shoulder, but Youngjae knows it’s more loving than it appears. “So, when do we get to meet your personal pizza boy, hm?”

“You make it sound like I even know what he looks like,” Youngjae scoffs, rolling his eyes as he clicks the buckles shut. If he didn't love his friends and bandmates so much, he'd have no problem using his bass as a headsman's axe at the moment. “God, I make one post showing my gratitude for a faceless dude, and you won’t get off my ass about it.”

“I’d be so offended if I were him,” Yoongi states, feigning disgust and Youngjae hangs his case off his back, bicep flexed perfectly. “I wouldn’t love someone who only likes me for my pizza.”

“You’re a terrible boyfriend, Jae.” Hani glares dramatically with a raised eyebrow. “He’s going to break up with you soon, if he’s smart.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Youngjae chuckles and lifts the garage door up with one hand, the other gripping his strap. Despite how frail he looks, he's not straining. “See you guys tomorrow?”

“Of course! Bring your pizza boy, why don’t you?” Yoongi calls after him.

Turning his head enough to look over his shoulder, Youngjae smiles and shrugs. “He’s not a delivery boy, so don’t get your hopes up.”

He lets the garage door fall with perfect timing.

It isn’t that Youngjae particularly likes pizza, or likes to waste his busking money on a custom pizza that costs extra money, along with delivery and tips.

It’s that he’s addicted to this curiosity he discovered during a late night jam session with his older brother, when he really didn’t want to taste the tang and chunkiness of pizza sauce so he clicked on the ranch option.

Normal pizza sauce simply can’t compare to the mildness of the ranch that doesn’t take away from the cheese or the toppings, and doesn’t get messy all over his chin even when it’s laid on heavy. It’s pure bliss that he constantly craves, like an addict to cocaine. Except his white drug looks more like certain other substances, and not flour.

Who needs a wife to go home to when you can order a pizza online to enjoy intimately?

Some people speed home to see their children, or their spouses who sent them a risqué text about bringing back their youthful spark. But not Youngjae. No, he speeds home to sign in and click his easy order, and see Himchan’s name flash under the progress tracker alongside a message about how he’s gained rewards points towards a free pizza.

Besides, Youngjae’s essentially been a committed relationship with Caroline—his gorgeous, sleek purple bass—ever since his last human romance ended. And Caroline likes a little competition to spice things up, the kind that only his pizza can bring into the relationship.

“Home sweet home~” Youngjae sings, showing off to no one as he kicks open the door to his bachelor pad. It’s nothing much—but for its budget it’s stylized to his wants.

He waves to his Mark Mendoza poster as he passes by it, and slips his case of his shoulders. With an odd amount of care, he sets it onto his couch, before claiming the other side as his own.

Sighing lovingly, he lounges with his head thrown back—one arm on the armrest and the other on the top of the couch. He stays like that for a few seconds, stretching one leg out on the couch while the other bends and hangs off the side.

Inevitably, his laptop on the coffee table catches his eye, and he grins.

 

* * *

 

_Himchan is delivering your pizza._

_Himchan is delivering your_

_Himchan is delivering_

_Himchan is_

_Himchan_

“Caroline, what the fuck is this?” Youngjae whispers, mouth agape. His fingers cease moving on her strings, and he lets her lie on his lap so he can lean in closer and peer at the screen.

A nervous grin breaks out on his face, and he runs a clammy hand through his hair. “Shit, guess we gotta get a bigger tip for him, huh?”

Carefully, he puts Caroline on the couch, and stands up. He practically bounces as he stretches, reaching to grab his wallet off the coffee table.

He manages to pull out the twenty and the fiver that he needs to pay the actual cost. Normally, he’d just leave the change as the tip, but he pulls out an extra fiver. Eight dollars in total is admittedly a bit much to tip a pizza delivery boy, but this isn’t just a boy.

Youngjae is about to tip the guy who has whipped up amazing pizza for him for two months straight. He deserves a hundred dollars, if not more, and if Youngjae needs to make his fingers bleed from busking in order to pay off his imaginary debt then fuck, his fingers are going to bleed.

And then, his doorbell rings.

And then, it rings a second time—presumably for good measure.

“I can do this, can’t I, Caroline?” he makes finger guns to her, cash in hand, and struts to the door as his confidence begins to build.

With as much suaveness as he can muster, he swings his door open in a totally-casual manner, and comes face-to-face with the infamous pizza maker.

“You’re the guy that-”

“You’re the kid who-”

“-makes my amazing pizzas.”

“-orders the shittiest pizzas.”

Oh.

Himchan is cute.

No, scratch that, he’s handsome. Dashing. A bit dapper.

Extremely attractive.

Youngjae unashamedly stares at this face, angular in all the right places. His hair seems to be styled well under his cap, leaving his intense stare exposed. It’s beautiful how dark his eyes are, and how they’re soft on their own but his straight eyebrows make them look almost menacing, too.

He’s tall. Taller than Youngjae, even. He’s built like a true man and Youngjae is already swooning.

Apparently, he’s just as sassy, too.

“My pizza isn’t shit!” Youngjae gasps, flabbergasted.

“Anything but normal pizza sauce is a disgrace.” Himchan’s smirk is condescending as he scans Youngjae up and down. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I would’ve smacked you if you weren’t.”

“Oh?” Youngjae’s offended expression quickly turns into a smirk equal to Himchan’s. He crosses his arms over his chest, and leans against his doorframe. “I didn’t imagine my pizza maker to be so attractive, either.”

Himchan’s lips widen into a full-blown grin. “Then why’d you make that post on Instagram after Eunae followed you? Are you telling me that wasn’t meant to be a call?”

Youngjae shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.”

“Well, if you’d be so kind, you can pay me right now,” Himchan holds out his hand, and Youngjae passes over the cash and the tip. “Thank you. If you’d like, you can leave this nasty shit here and come over to the break room? My manager won’t mind.”

“Alright, I accept that offer,” Youngjae nods, taking his beloved pizza from Himchan. “But on one condition.”

“And that would be?” Himchan’s eyes light up with knowing excitement.

However, the gleeful sparkle in Youngjae’s eyes says him reeling. “I get to bring Caroline.”

Youngjae wants to laugh when he sees Himchan backpedalling in his mind, eyes overcome with a certain anxiousness though he tries to maintain composure. It’s a joke that never gets old, a prank that never fails. Just a quick tease to make his admirers stutter and dishearten for a few seconds.

He’s a bit of a brat sometimes, but he just likes to be in control.

It’s more fun.

“Caroline?” Himchan shifts awkwardly, gears turning loudly in his head. “Who’s she?”

“That purple beauty over there,” Youngjae jerks his heads back, towards his couch as he steps to the side. “I haven’t played her enough yet. Normally I go until my hands get stiff."

Himchan visibly relaxes and shifts ever-so-slightly back into his flirtatious posture, and Youngjae really, really wants to giggle. But that would give him away. “Yeah, of course. As long as you don’t wear out your fingers completely.”

“Why not?” Youngjae scrunches his face, attempting to appear confused. He’s a good actor—it should work.

Himchan regains his confidence, perhaps even some slight arrogance. It’s obvious façade, though. “Save a bit for yourself, that’s all.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, but okay?” Youngjae blinks, wide-eyed. “No need to keep waiting; let me just go put this down and pack Caroline and we’ll go.”

When he turns to walk to the couch, and Himchan can’t see him smirk, he makes sure to sway his hips ever-so-slightly.

Youngjae is really getting lucky—first, with the fact that the man who makes his pizzas is as manly as he likes them.

Second, with the fact that Himchan is right where he wants him.

This will be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmm comments and kudos maybe??? maaaaaaybe?
> 
> anyways yeah i wrote this quickly it was rushed and it's not vv serious 
> 
> but i hoped you guys liked it!!


End file.
